


Dog

by whalehuntingboyfriends



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, GTA AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-17 22:19:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5887462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalehuntingboyfriends/pseuds/whalehuntingboyfriends
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only thing Gavin finds more terrifying than Ryan is the enormous dog he’s brought to stay in the base with them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **warnings:** panic attacks. also, although this story takes a humorous/sarcastic tone, it actually is about someone being put into a situation where they're forced to be around something that makes them genuinely scared/anxious

The Golden Boy of the Fake AH Crew was meant to be untouchable. Gavin Free had painstakingly constructed his image so; the reckless, headlong fool who was dangerous because he feared _nothing_. His madcap schemes had the highest risk factor of any of the crew and frequently involved jumping from planes, narrowly timed explosions and the most heavily armed targets in Achievement City. Nothing fazed him. Nothing frightened him.

Except, of course, his three most guarded fears. The three secret little weaknesses, the only things in the world that had him shrinking back, afraid.

Wet bread. Ryan “The Vagabond” Haywood. And, most of all - _dogs._

The wet bread was perhaps disgust more than fear. He knew it made him retch and throwing up was not fun, so he dreaded encountering it. Then again, one did not often run across wet bread, unless in the vicinity of either French onion soup or cruel, terrible people like a certain Michael Jones, who delighted in setting off his gag reflex.

(There was a recurring dream involving being trapped in a bakery during a flood, but that was another story).

Then, of course, there was Ryan.

Ah, Ryan.

He had joined the crew four months ago after running casual jobs with them for some time. Gavin’s fear of him was borne of several things. For one, there was the horrifying reputation that involved a lot of very violent things such as setting people on fire with flares, boiling them alive (although how he’d gone about that was sort of beyond Gavin. Did he use a very big pot or…?), and the classic death-via-a-thousand-micetraps. These tales had probably been wildly exaggerated because in the time Gavin had known Ryan he had never actually set someone on fire, nor had any large pots made an appearance, but still. Stories always came from somewhere.

There was also the fact that Ryan made awful, deadpan remarks about murder (“I think his head would look good as a hat… what?”) and Gavin could never tell if he was joking or not. And of course, the terrifying skull mask, and the even more terrifying face paint underneath it, and the fact that Ryan was a very tall, imposing man with a remarkably deep voice (scary people in movies nearly always had deep voices, so there was probably some Pavlovian conditioning going on there).

It didn’t help that Gavin was just by nature scared of new people. He didn’t like to talk with them, and he didn’t like to go near them, until he knew them well and considered them a friend.

So, of course, the sudden presence of the Vagabond joining their crew (literally one day Geoff just walked in all “oh, he’s with us full time now” while Gavin internally screamed with horror and tried not to make eye contact) was rather alarming. And since that fateful day when five became six and the Fake AH Crew gained 5000 more scary-points among the criminal underworld, Gavin had successfully managed to avoid _ever_ being alone in a room with Ryan.

They hadn’t had a single conversation. He avoided being in a car with him. They spoke to each other over the comms or when on a heist together, but someone else was always there - Michael, or Jack, or Ray - and besides, it was _different_ out in the field, there was an energy that charged everything they did. Back in the quiet of the base, or the planning room, or any of their safehouses - it was different. They were different people, Gavin less confident and reckless, Michael less ferocious, Ray a hell of a lot lazier and unfocused.

Out in the field, the Vagabond was their ally.

At home in the base, Ryan was a mystery. A very scary mystery who Gavin avoided at all costs.

But even his fear of Ryan paled in the face of his one great Achilles heel: dogs.

Gavin hadn’t always been scared of dogs. That was perhaps why this particular fear was so strong: it was based in actual traumatic experience. The _Incident_ had taken place a long time ago, back in England when Gavin was first beginning his criminal career.

In his mind, the _Incident_ (always capitalised and italicised, even in his head) had come to take on a particular, magnified horror. Dark stormy night, impending sense of doom, infiltrating some horrifying murder-zone that smelled of blood and was probably haunted, smack bang in the dead of winter - the works.

In reality it had probably been a gently rainy evening, miserable as it always was in England, and was just some regular warehouse surrounded by a bit of barbed wire. But looking back on it, it was just a mess of blood and fear and the dark and the _dogs_. The terrible dogs with their gnashing teeth and bloodchilling snarls and putrid breath. The hard stone under his back as he was knocked over, the pain when he struck his head. The snap of teeth too close to his face.

They’d been big as wolves (okay, they were probably German Shepherds or something) with glowing red eyes (probably the reflection of the torch he’d been flashing frantically in its face) and he was fairly certain one of them had been Cerberus incarnate because it had three heads (bear in mind he’d just knocked the back of his skull against the stone ground and was later diagnosed with a concussion).

Needless to say, he got out of it alive and actually relatively unharmed (he did have a ripper of a scar on his shoulder, but over the years it had faded so that you really had to imagine hard to make out the teeth marks) but since then, the mere sight of a dog had him quaking in his boots. Not to mention a bark or a growl had him running a mile in the opposite direction.

Oh, they laughed about it. He’d tell the story with wild hand gestures that made the others snort and he’d mention his fear of dogs in an offhanded, sometimes sarcastic way (“No, seriously. Yes, even the small fluffy ones. Look, it’s the little ones that are the most dangerous - like chilli, right?”) but for real, if dogs were involved he was out of there like a shot. He’d cross the road to avoid a poodle.

Fortunately, they did not actually encounter many dogs. They were more common in gangs in England where a lot of things were based out in the countryside, and Geoff didn’t believe in getting animals involved in their business. In this day and age most people favoured security systems and guns to guard dogs, so unless he met one in the street (which he’d gotten used to; he’d keep his distance but he didn’t freak out about them) he was pretty safe.

Until, of course, Ryan decided to turn their main base into his personal Pet Hotel.

 

* * *

 

The nightmare began on a quite regular morning, except for the fact that Geoff was gone.

He would be gone for a while. He’d only left yesterday and he was going to be over the other side of the country for a couple of weeks, helping Funhaus with their setting up. It was strange, not having him around - of all of them, Geoff never tended to go on long away jobs, so he was usually a constant presence around the base.

Of course, in Gavin’s mind, Ryan had deliberately timed the whole business to coincide with Geoff’s absence. Bringing his monstrous dog over while Geoff was away so that no one could order him not to. How very _cunning_. How terribly _sneaky_.

Anyway. He literally just strode into the main conference room that morning wheeling a big suitcase and followed by an absolutely enormous dog. For a moment Gavin, who had been sitting peacefully drinking his tea, thought he was hallucinating.

It really did take a moment to sink in. There was the usual nervous realisation of ‘ _oh, Ryan’s here’_ followed by a briefly alarmed ‘ _and a dog’s here_ ’ and then the rather more panicked ‘ _oh my fucking God. A dog’s in here, why the hell is there a dog in here?!’_

“Who’s this?” Michael cried, in a tone of absolute _delight_.

“This is my dog,” Ryan replied, as though they all hadn’t fucking _guessed that already_. Although to be fair, Gavin wasn’t really listening to anything Ryan was saying at that moment. He was stuck staring at the dog in horror while unknowingly holding his dripping teabag over the very important papers in front of him.

When there was a big dog this close everything just went sort of blank. Like some primal instinct kicked in to stay as still as possible, as though if he moved too fast it would lunge at him and attack. The fear wasn’t even there properly, yet, just a steadily building sort of dread. After a second, he pulled his feet up onto his chair.

He was sitting furthest from the door. Which meant that he was currently furthest from the dog - but also from _escape_ , as that door was the only way in or out of the room.

Everyone else, of course, was having the time of their bloody lives right now.

“Here boy! Come here boy!” Jack was saying, holding out a hand and making a variety of cooing baby noises. The dog ran over from Ryan’s side towards him, panting happily as he scratched its ears. Michael had got up from his chair and was rubbing the dog’s back, Ray watching in interest.

It was exactly the sort of dog that Gavin would have expected the Vagabond to have, which was to say that it was _gigantic and terrifying_. Like really. If it stood on its hind legs it’d probably be as tall as he was. He had no idea what breed it was but it had short fur, in patches of black and brown, and it was lean and strong looking. Its jaws were huge. Hanging open the way they were as the dog panted, he was getting a great view of its big teeth.

Ryan was watching them all in amusement; the dog was bouncing about happily under all the attention now, nudging its head against Jack’s knees, turning to jump up at Michael.

“What breed is he? Wait, is it a he?” Michael asked, glancing up at Ryan.

“He’s mixed,” Ryan replied. He looked very pleased. In fact, he was smiling, which… wasn’t rare for him, actually, but always sort of unsettled Gavin when he had the mask off. “Doberman, German Shepherd, a slew of other things.”

“He’s _so cute_ ,” Jack declared, vigorously rubbing the sides of the dog’s head. His hands were perilously close to its mouth.

_Cute_ was not the word Gavin would use to describe this situation. _Nightmarish_ suited it a lot better. He realised suddenly that he wasn’t actually breathing and quickly remedied that, trying to ignore how hard his heart was pounding.

“As much as I’m enjoying this, can I ask why he’s here?” Michael asked then, and Ryan’s grin widened.

“Yeah, I didn’t just bring him over to meet you guys. I’m actually gonna be staying at the base for a bit.” He gestured at his suitcase. “There’s been a little… situation with my landlord and I’m not living in my house any more.”

“You kill him?” Ray asked, flatly.

“How dare you,” Ryan replied immediately. “Why, I am a model, law-abiding tenant! I’ve never even been late with my rent.”

See, it was comments like that that made it very difficult for Gavin to figure Ryan out; it was obviously sarcasm but he’d also never _denied_ killing the guy. Schrödinger’smurder.

“Anyway, I figured that until I find a new place to live I may as well take advantage of the living quarters here,” he continued. “You don’t think Geoff’ll mind, do you? I mean, we’ve never had an animal in here before but he never said _not_ to.”

“Not at all,” Jack said, far too quickly.

“Nah, he’ll be totally cool with it,” Michael added. Even Ray was nodding.

Gavin was just silently trying to find an escape route. Like some sort of twisted version of _The Floor Is Lava_ he was trying to find a way to get to the door without stepping off his chair, for he was certain that if he did the dog would run towards him.

So far his most feasible plan involved running along the top of the table and dive-rolling out the open door. Before he could, however, the dog started moving again, and all he could do was sit there and sort of whimper quietly.

It had run back to Ryan for a moment and was now wandering around sniffing at everyone’s feet. Michael was following it everywhere it went and patting it. He was enjoying this entirely too much, Gavin thought rather sourly, as he himself sat petrified.

“How long until you sort this all out?” he blurted out finally.

Ryan looked over at him with those inscrutable blue eyes.

“Might be a while, actually,” he replied. “I’m way too busy at the moment to go house hunting and I don’t want to rush into buying something. But there’s plenty of room here, I should be fine.”

_A while,_ Gavin thought, frantically, _how damn long is a_ while?

“Is this your attack dog?” he asked then, and Ryan started laughing.

“Dear God, no,” he replied. “I don’t like getting animals dragged into a gunfight. This is my house dog.”

_House dog!_ Well then. That didn’t mean much considering Gavin had long entertained a mental image of Ryan as living in some enormous, villainous castle complete with dungeons and torture chambers, and he could well picture this ferocious beast prowling about in the shadowy depths of such a place.

Even with the knowledge that Ryan _didn’t_ actually live in some sort of real-world version of Bowser’s Castle, he was still basically picturing Gru’s house from Despicable Me.

“Attack dog,” Ryan scoffed again, and laughed as the dog ran back over to him and he scratched behind its ears. “He’s way too friendly for that. He can’t even guard my damn door, he just wants to play with whoever’s outside. I’ve had him since he was a puppy,” - and oh God, the mental image of Ryan carrying a _puppy_ around while in his full Vagabond getup was just a bit too much for Gavin to handle - “And he’s totally house trained, so he won’t make a mess in here or anything. I’ll try make sure he stays out of your way while he’s here.”

“Oh please don’t,” Jack said. “He can get in my way all he wants.”

Ryan laughed again. Gavin felt a bit sick as he realised that absolutely no one except him wanted the dog out of there. They were all completely charmed!

Even Ray, who was normally apathetic to anything that wasn’t on a screen or down the end of his sniper rifle, looked interested.

“It looks kind of like the dog from Fallout, doesn’t it?” he announced, which was probably the most Ray thing that could ever be said about a dog.

Still. While they were all distracted, and the dog was wandering around under the table while Jack laughed and poked at it with his feet, Gavin took the opportunity to escape. He tried to do it subtly, getting out of his chair and inching around the side of the table-

Only to bump straight into Ryan, who’d turned his back and was trying to un-wedge his suitcase from between the wall and the chairs. Gavin walked square into his back, having been too preoccupied by making sure the dog wasn’t coming towards them. Ryan stumbled, nearly falling over, and then turned to steady Gavin.

“Alright?” he asked, weirdly gently.

Gavin had been sputtering an apology but he could only stand there and stare helplessly at him now. They had never actually been this close to each other before and Ryan was holding onto his arm, his eyes soft and concerned like he thought he himself was somehow to blame for them knocking into each other.

“He doesn’t like dogs,” Michael called out from the other side of the room.

Gavin saw Ryan’s eyes narrow. He let go of Gavin’s arm and started to frown, but at that moment Gavin heard the slightest little yap from the dog. He turned to see it coming towards him and the panic hit immediately.

“‘scuse me,” he blurted out, and pushed past Ryan, practically clambering over his fallen suitcase before rushing out of the room, going so far as to shut the door behind him. He got halfway down the hall before he paused to freak out, slumping against the wall and breathing heavily.

Dear God. Okay. This was a _situation_.

He wasn’t panicking, not quite, but the prospect of that huge dog living here for the foreseeable future was filling him with a suffocating sort of dread. What if it suddenly turned on them? Went mental one night or got startled by a gunshot or… or suddenly contracted _rabies_? What if he somehow pissed Ryan off and the guy set the dog on him?

“For God’s sake pull yourself together,” he muttered, clenching his fists as he tried to slow his breathing. _Come on. Come on. Think about this rationally._

You probably won’t even see it, he realised. It’ll just sit in Ryan’s room all day, it won’t come out and wander around, right?

(But what if it needs to shit? It’ll have to come out then-)

He wouldn’t just leave it roaming free. He’ll tie it up outside, if you stay away from it you’ll be fine-

(The others like it so much. They’ll want it to wander around so they can play with it, the bastards.)

No, Ryan won’t let it be a distraction. If you stay in your office, it won’t come near you. You’re fine. You’re _fine._

The thing was, he’d learned to manage around house dogs. He wouldn’t go near them and he’d leave the room if they started getting close, but if it was a trained pet and the owner was around, he could generally get by with just trying to ignore it. Pretend he couldn’t see it, hope it didn’t see him.

But this dog was just so _big_. He was already thinking of how easily it could rip his throat out. Not to mention it belonged to _Ryan_ , who (allegedly) had done his fair share of throat-ripping _himself_.

To be honest, he was also a bit put out about the others not even caring about how this whole situation was probably making him feel. Like, surely Michael, at least, could’ve said something? _Keep that dog outside, Gavin can’t be around them_.

Except, he realised with a sudden sinking feeling - perhaps making such a mockery of the story about _why_ he disliked them so much hadn’t been the best idea. Because it had been embarrassment, at first, that made him try and laugh it off, and he realised now that the others probably didn’t think it was _serious._

_I’m scared of dogs -_ they probably thought he meant it the way people said they were scared of butterflies, or escalators, or airplane bathrooms, when actually they were just nervous and uneasy. Not actually, properly scared.

To be fair, none of them had ever actually _seen_ Gavin around a dog before.

_Well, they’re about to get their damn fill_.

After all, _he_ certainly wasn’t about to go up to Ryan and inform him of exactly why the dog couldn’t stay. Ha ha ha, what a thought. No sir-ee.

Which meant he would just have to put up with it.

_God damn it._


	2. Chapter 2

At first, Gavin actually managed to avoid the dog for quite a long time.

Most days, it spent the afternoon locked in the car park out back, which was walled in with a high gate, so it couldn’t get out. Sometimes Gavin saw it through the window, racing about the parking lot or rolling in the grass or pissing all over the doormat, or sitting scratching itself (claws. terrifying claws). But it tended to immediately come over to the door if it noticed someone standing there watching it, so he stayed well away just in case.

When it was outside, it was fine.

When it was inside, it was very much _not_.

As he expected, the others didn’t let Ryan keep the dog cooped up.

(“It needs space to move around,” Jack had insisted, which everyone knew was secret code for _I want to be able to play with it_.)

So it wandered around. It pretty much had free reign of the place as long as it didn’t get in the way, and all their regular hires who spent time around the base seemed to instantly fall in love with it. And the dog was _lapping up_ the bloody attention, seriously.

It’d go and sit under people’s chairs at their desks, or whenever they had a meeting in the boardroom. Gavin now had to check the floor every time he sat down and even then he lived in fear of the dog picking him for the day, especially since if it was ignored it’d start nudging the person’s knee until they gave it a scratch.

Sometimes, it’d just lie sprawled in the middle of the floor - especially in the kitchen, when the weather was hot. It liked the cool tiled floor and it’d just plonk itself smack bang in front of the cabinets. He was always too scared to walk around it because it looked up when it heard people approaching.

(He was slowly working up the nerve to just run up and hurdle it and keep going when it lay in the middle of the corridor, but he was worried it’d spring up and bite him mid-air if he tried, so he was always forced to wait for it to move because he was too afraid to step over it.)

They managed to keep it out of the armoury, at least, but there was a window high up on the wall just down the hall from the door that let in a bright, warm spot of sunlight, and the dog liked to sit in it.

So honestly, at any given moment, it could be sitting in the middle of the corridor, or lying on the floor, or hiding under a chair, and whenever Gavin was walking around he had to constantly do all these reconnaissance things. Like for real, he had made a fucking periscope out of toilet rolls and little mirrors and he was using it to check around corners. It’d be funny if he wasn’t honestly worried about running into the dog unexpectedly.

There had been some very close calls.

A number of times he encountered it when there was no one else around and it tried to come up to him. It terrified him every time. He’d heard somewhere that running from a dog was a bad idea because it might jump on your back so he was forced to moonwalk away very quickly and get into the nearest room with a door that locked.

The one time he was forced to inch around the side of the room because he _desperately_ needed to get to the door on the other side while the dog was sleeping on the carpet, it woke up and lifted its head and stared directly into his eyes, then began to get up. Gavin scuttled away and slammed the door in its face and heard it scratching and whining on the other side. He had to go to the bathroom and take five minutes to calm down and splash water on his face.

Also, one time he saw it _yawn_ and nearly had a fucking heart attack. Those jaws could fit around his head and crunch it like an egg. Oh God.

Jack, of course, had fallen in love with the damn beast.

It was very frustrating. He had his own damn dog at home, Gavin wasn’t sure why the hell he needed this one too. But he was always going up and scratching it and giving it treats - Michael was, too - and it meant that the dog now associated everyone in the base with _food_ and _pats_ and apparently it now thought it was _okay_ to just come up to people and sit at their feet.

Damn it.

It was Ryan who the dog hung around the most, though, when he wasn’t out on a job. It was constantly lying on his feet, or even trying to jump onto his lap when he sat on the couch, or tagging along at his ankles when he was walking around. Gavin often heard him walking past and calling the dog to take it out on a run.

When he did, he called it ‘Obi.’

Gavin had no idea if that was the dog’s actual name, or if it was short for something, but the only thing he could think of that it might be short for was Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Oh my fucking God. Was the beast of his nightmares called Obi-Wan? Was he being terrorised by a bloody _Star Wars reference_? Way to add insult to injury. Not to mention a nerdy name like that didn’t really fit with what he expected of the Vagabond.

The dog was more like bloody Darth Vader, to be honest - marching around the base, breathing heavily at everyone and bringing the possibility of _death_ everywhere it went.

Either way, it was all over the place and honestly, Gavin couldn’t handle it. He was constantly sneaking around trying to avoid the damn thing, constantly on-edge unless he was in his own office with the door shut. He dreaded driving to work in the morning in case he found it already outside in the car park because it would bloody _run up to people_ as soon as they opened their car doors. He lived in fear of that happening to him because he had no idea what he’d do. Probably climb out the sun roof.

When he had to work late, it was even worse. With no one at the base it was all quiet and dark and there was just _Ryan_ there. Ryan and the fucking dog, alone with him. Oh God, it was just the worst thing possible.

Although speaking of Ryan - Gavin now saw _him_ around more too. Since he was living at the base, if Gavin came early or late or on an odd day, he would catch a rare sight of him not working or in his Vagabond getup.

And as it turned out, Ryan in his off-hours was alarmingly, _suspiciously normal_.

Gavin had walked in on him making toast in the kitchen while wearing what looked a hell of a lot like Dad jeans.

He encountered him coming out of the shower, heading from the bathroom to his bedroom in the living quarters with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist and a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. And after months of only seeing Ryan completely covered up in black leather _that_ was a shock that had Gavin stopping short in his own bedroom doorway, mouth hanging open, unsure where his eyes were meant to be looking. Ryan was very fit. This should have been obvious since he was (supposedly) capable of breaking a man’s neck with just one hand, but somehow watching him walk past down the hall, taking in broad, bare shoulders and droplets of water siding down his skin from his damp hair, was… surprising. Yes. Surprised. That’s how Gavin was feeling at that moment.

Moving on.

He even spied Ryan with _glasses_ on at one point, when he was up late in the board room reading all the headlines about their latest heist. He looked… not very murderous when he had them on. In fact, he looked kind of like a librarian, or a geography teacher (yes, geography specifically. No, Gavin was not sure why). Either way, even being alone with him in the board room, for once he wasn’t feeling so intimidated that he could barely speak. Ryan ought to wear the glasses all the time, it made him much less scary.

Ryan was around so much now that it was inevitable that they ended up alone together a couple of times. Ryan never said much to him, he was usually just passing through.

“Hello Gavin,” he’d say, with a nod of greeting, or “Good morning,” - not sarcastically, either.

“How are you doing?”

“Jack was looking for you.”

“I see you replaced your sunglasses already. Shame about the old ones. But they look good.”

Every interaction had Gavin sputtering and struggling to get away as quickly as possible. Whenever Ryan singled him out and it wasn’t in the middle of some on-the-job banter he just had no idea what to say. It was only made more confusing by the fact that Ryan sounded _sincere_ , and not threatening at all.

There was something sinister about it, he told himself. Like all those serial killers whose neighbours thought they looked perfectly normal. It was suss.

The others didn’t seem to think it was weird at all.

“Yeah, of course he’s totally normal,” Michael snorted, the one time Gavin brought it up to him. “Jesus Christ, he’s always been like that. You’re just the only one who never got to know him, you idiot.”

Either way. He avoided the dog, and he avoided Ryan.

 

* * *

 

Of course, it couldn’t last forever.

It was a calm and pleasant afternoon when all Gavin’s worst nightmares finally came true. He’d had a rather uneventful day, mostly making phone calls from his office in the base, and after a while he came down to sit in the kitchen and eat his lunch.

It was very delicious lunch, a delightful, creamy pasta salad with bits of cut up gourmet chicken in it, and he had been looking forward to it all day (this was all about to become very relevant, in the most horrifying way possible, for him at least).

So there he was, sitting there _innocently_ tucking into his lunch ( _his_ lunch, he had made it and lovingly packaged it up to keep in his fridge all day, and he was not about to share it)-

When he heard the telltale patter of paws against the floor and looked up only to freeze at the sight of the dog standing in the kitchen door.

The dog stared at him, making direct eye contact.

He stared back, horrified, fork halfway between the Pyrex dish and his mouth. He could see the dog practically salivating, panting gently as it slowly began to advance towards him.

_Oh my God. Oh my God!_

There was one door - and the dog was between him and it - the other kitchen had two exits, but not this one.

There was _no escape_. Holy hell. He didn’t have any weapons on him. If it attacked him, he might be able to jab at it with the fork, but that might only aggravate it-

As he sat there, motionless and internally freaking out, the dog came _right up to him_ and he saw its head tilt up to look at the food.

_Oh no,_ Gavin thought.

The others fed the damn thing constantly. Whenever they were eating something and it came up, they’d slip it little bits and pieces. Gavin had seen Ryan sitting at the kitchen table, the dog at his feet, and he always seemed to give it half of whatever he was eating. It meant that the dog now constantly hung around whenever it saw people gathered around the table and was why he’d stopped eating with the others the last few weeks.

But here it was now, staring up at him and panting. He stared straight ahead of himself, completely still, his whole body tense, not wanting to look at it. After a moment he glanced down to see that it was still there, looking up at him, tongue hanging out of its mouth. It looked like it was grinning. _Evilly_.

He had no idea what to do. His heart was pounding and his chest felt tight but he had the sudden hysterical idea that maybe if he _ignored it_ , it’d go away, and slowly lifted his fork to continue eating.

Bad idea.

The dog let out a pitiful sort of whine and he dropped the fork in shock. Moments later he felt something against his leg and looked down to find that it had gotten _even closer_ and was lifting a paw and prodding at his leg.

Oh God. What was he meant to _do_? He was afraid to move too suddenly. After a moment it dropped its paw only to nudge at his knee with its head. He thought he might throw up.

_Breathe_ , he thought, because he was actually starting to feel a bit lightheaded. He forced himself to suck a breath in, let it out slowly. Then closed his eyes, so he wouldn’t have to see the dog. He could still feel it nudging him. After a moment he became irrationally worried that he wouldn’t see it lunge at him, and opened them again.

_Stay calm_ , he thought. He considered standing on the table but he was scared to move too much in case that prompted it to attack.

The dog was still staring at him. After a moment it stretched its neck up as high as it could go, sniffing vigorously towards his precious pasta salad.

“No,” said Gavin, and it turned towards him. He froze, but continued, voice shaky, “Excuse me. That’s mine.”

It was staring at him so intently that he became certain it could understand him - except a second later, it nosed at his hand and he had to hold in a shriek. Its nose was cold and very wet.

“Please don’t,” he said desperately, snatching his hand back. “Please go away!”

It did not go away.

_Oh God, what do I_ do?

At that moment, a door slammed somewhere else in the base, and the dog’s head snapped around at the noise. Gavin took advantage of the distraction to pull his legs up onto the chair and then get out his phone.

But who to call to rescue him?

Michael and Jack were both out of the base on a job. He didn’t know which members of B-Team were around. Ray would be useless to him; though he liked the dog well enough, he never fed it by hand. He always just threw treats at it and gave it the occasional pat if it happened to come over to him.

Which left, of course, Ryan.

Gavin pulled up the other man in his phone and grimaced. He hadn’t texted him since a few months ago when he’d sent him a list of names and addresses of people that Geoff needed killed. Fantastic.

But the other man was in the base - Gavin had seen him come in just before he came down here for lunch. And right now, his fear of the dog heavily outweighed his fear of Ryan, and if anyone could get the damn thing out it’d be its owner, right?

The dog was turning back towards him now and Gavin quickly fired out the text - _please come to the kitchen immediately_ \- before huddling back in the chair and hugging his knees.

Seeing the food abandoned, the dog proceeded to let out a little yap before fucking _standing up on its legs_ and putting its paws on the table, trying to reach the dish. Gavin had shoved it away to the middle of the table and now the dog couldn’t reach it, but honestly - the sight of it standing up like that, as tall as he was, was quite frankly _petrifying_ and he stretched his arms up to cover his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Just take the food,” he whimpered. “Leave me alone.”

When he cracked an eye open it seemed the dog still couldn’t reach it and kept looking over at him as though it wanted _him_ to feed it, which no. Not gonna happen.

“Gavin?” came a voice from the door, and Gavin lowered his arms, looking up. Ryan had gotten here fast; he had his mask on still and was standing there looking at him. At the sound of his voice the dog had descended from the table and pottered over to him, tail wagging furiously as he bent to scratch its head.

Gavin swallowed a few times, lowering his legs and straightening his shirt as he tried to look a bit more put together than he felt.

“Get rid of the dog, please,” he said.

The dog ran back to him at that moment and he frantically scooted his chair back, but it paid no attention to him, just put its front paws up on the table again and looked between the food and Ryan, obviously hoping he’d be more helpful than Gavin had been.

“Oh, sorry,” Ryan said, with a huff of a laugh. “He just wants some of your lunch.”

“I gathered that,” Gavin replied, frantically. “Please get rid of him.”

“Down, boy,” Ryan said sharply. And then, when the dog didn’t, “Obi! Bad dog, stop bothering Gavin.”

The dog finally jumped down and ran back to Ryan. It stood up again, pawing at him a few times, Ryan laughing as he pushed it back off him where it skittered around on the floor, staring hopefully up at him.

“No treats for you,” Ryan said. It was hard to tell with the mask on, but he sounded amused. He pointed at the dog and it sat down, tail still wagging as Ryan laughed. “He heard the word treats, now he thinks he’s getting some.”

“Can you ask it to leave the room?” Gavin asked. At the sound of his voice the dog turned and ran back towards him again, making him inch back.

_“Obi!”_

Ryan’s shout made him flinch as much as the dog had; it was sharp, a command, and the dog retreated back again.

“Out, out,” Ryan said, and shooed it out of the kitchen. Gavin let out a sigh of relief as the dog disappeared out the door, chased by Ryan’s flapping hands. It felt like a weight had been taken off his chest just for the thing to be out of there. He could still feel its cold nose on his hand, its head against his knee, and shuddered.

He thought Ryan had left with the dog, but a second later he popped back in, making Gavin jump. He noticed suddenly that the other man was still all done up in his Vagabond gear; mask and jacket on, gun still hanging at his waist. It was intimidating, but honestly, Gavin would take Ryan a hundred times over that dog. At least Ryan wasn’t about to start asking for his food (he hoped. It was a very delicious looking pasta salad).

“What did you need?” Ryan asked, and Gavin blinked a few times.

“What?”

“You texted me to come here. What did you need?”

“Oh,” Gavin said, and flushed, a bit embarrassed now. “I just needed you to remove the dog.”

Ryan stared at him for a long moment, that blank mask very disconcerting in the silence.

“You texted me just to get the dog out,” he said finally, slowly. “Next time if he’s bothering you, just push him off the table and shoo him out the door. He can be cheeky but if you tell him off he’ll listen.”

“Push it off the table?” Gavin said, already entertaining mental images of trying to do that and the dog turning and biting him on the wrist and then ripping his whole arm off. And then _eating it_. “No… I don’t want to touch it.”

It came out rather sulkily. He didn’t intend it to. He was just so rattled by this whole business that honestly, he wasn’t really in control of what was coming out of his mouth.

Ryan tilted his head at that. He stared at Gavin for another long, silent moment before turning and leaving the room.

Gavin bit his lip. It was hard to read Ryan with the mask on, but he got the impression that the other man was put out, for some reason. Still - he shook himself - at least the dog was gone, even if he’d lost his appetite.

 

* * *

 

Except, as it turned out, that incident was the beginning of a series of very alarming events.

Just the next day, he was sitting in his office finishing up something. He was working late, so there was barely anyone else in the base, when suddenly he glimpsed something in the corner of his eye and looked up to see that damned dog wander up and lie down right outside his door.

The door was shut, but it was made of glass, and he could see the dog pressing its face right up against it, its breath leaving a little circle of fog. Gavin had gone stiff at the sight of it. It had never come up here before - he’d always thought his office quite safe.

He could only assume, with a sinking feeling, that since everyone else had gone home, the beast had gotten lonely.

_The door’s shut._

_You’re fine as long as the door’s shut_.

He forced himself to go back to work, very nervously, and finished everything up, hoping that in the meantime the dog would move on. But by the time he was done and had packed everything up ready to go home, it was still lying there.

He was trapped!

He’d be here all night. He’d sleep on the couch and by the morning hopefully it would have gone away-

Except, he realised, he had to go home or there would be no one to feed his cats, and he had an early meeting tomorrow that he needed to get up and prepare for, and also there was no food in his office and he hadn’t had dinner yet.

The solution came easily to him.

Now that he’d texted Ryan once before, it was a lot easier the second time to pull out his phone and message the other man, since he knew he was still at the base.

_Come to my office_ , was all he said, and sat back in his chair, biting nervously at his thumbnail and watching the dog stare at him from behind the door.

Ryan must have been nearby, because before long the dog’s head was stretching up and it let out a happy sort of yip. Moments later Ryan appeared.

“Obi, get out of the way,” he said, sounding very amused as he nudged the dog with his boot until it got to its feet and stepped out of the way of the door. He opened it and poked his head in.

He must’ve finished his work for the day because he was maskless and paintless, and wearing a hoodie. It was always a bit of a shock to see him look casual, though Gavin had more often recently since he was living here. His hair wasn’t even in a ponytail, hanging loose around his shoulders, which was rather distracting.

“Gavin? I didn’t realise you were still here. What’s up?” he asked.

Gavin was already gathering his belongings up, ready to bolt for it.

“Please get rid of the dog; it was blocking my door and I couldn’t leave,” he stuttered out, a bit distracted by it lurking about behind Ryan in the corridor.

He saw Ryan’s eyebrows rise, his previous smile faltering away.

“ _Again_?” he demanded. “Seriously?”

“I don’t want to go near it!” Gavin said weakly, and Ryan sighed heavily and turned away.

“Come on, Obi, let’s go,” he said, and walked off with the dog, leaving Gavin alone in the office.

Gavin bit his lip. He got the feeling that Ryan was annoyed with him - probably for hating his beloved pet. And while he’d always been wary of Ryan, and tried not to piss him off too much for fear of his wrath - somehow, now, the thought that he’d upset the other man made him feel guiltier than he normally did when he annoyed one of the others.

But honestly, he didn’t know what else to do, and taking a deep breath, he headed off home.

 

* * *

 

But it continued.

Two days after that he needed something from the armoury, but the dog was sitting sunning itself. Without even thinking about it, he texted Ryan - it was so convenient; he always showed up quickly.

Sure enough, he arrived, and rolled his eyes at the sight of Gavin lingering far down the corridor.

“Let me guess,” he said drily, “You need me to move the dog.”

Gavin nodded frantically, and Ryan gave a heavy sigh.

“I was in the middle of doing something,” he said.

“Sorry,” was all Gavin could reply, and Ryan sighed again.

“Come on,” he said, clicking his fingers at the dog. It got up, lazily stretched, and moved to Ryan’s heels, heading off with him.

And so on, and so forth, for the next few weeks. The dog was outside near the door and Gavin needed to get to his car? He’d text Ryan to remove it. The dog was blocking the staircase up to his office? Text Ryan.

It was the most non-work-related interaction he’d ever had with the other man - but he could tell Ryan was getting steadily more annoyed with him for it. But still - he’d never actually _said_ anything - never yelled at Gavin, or got mad, or threatened him - just came to collect the dog with sighs and furrowed brows, and even if it made Gavin uneasy to know he’d pissed off the Vagabond, he was far more afraid of the dog.

So he kept doing it.

Things came to a head a week or so later. Gavin’d had a meeting that he’d gone to directly from home, so he arrived back at the main base a bit later than usual. Usually he was here early enough to avoid the dog before Ryan brought it out. But today, it was already loose in the parking lot, and he felt a sinking nervousness in his stomach as he noticed it running around.

As usual, the second it saw a car coming it got very excited, running in frantic circles for a moment before heading up to his car as he parked it. By this point he was trembling as he turned the engine off, peering out the window to see its great grinning face staring back at him as it jumped up at his door.

_Oh God,_ he thought. There was no escape. The second he got out it’d be all over him; he’d seen it, through the window of the base, leaping at Michael as soon as he arrived, nearly bowling over Ray when he got out of his car - it did it to everyone and he was already freaking out at the thought of it jumping on him when he opened the door.

He was already automatically pulling out his phone to text Ryan; he could see his vehicle in the car park so he must be here, and he fired off a message before sitting back to wait, flicking the lock on the car door just in case the dog somehow worked out how to use the handle.

About five minutes later Ryan emerged from the base. He whistled to the dog and Gavin was relieved as he watched it run over to him. Ryan scratched behind its ears before producing a toy and throwing it across the yard; the dog bounded after it and Gavin took the opportunity to get out as quickly as possible.

“Thanks,” he began, walking over to Ryan, but the other man turned to him and Gavin faltered as he realised he was scowling, looking properly pissed off. He hadn’t got his mask on but his face was painted with a new design - a skull under a skull, very Inception - and it was rather terrifying.

“Look,” Ryan said, sounding rather annoyed. “This has to stop.”

Gavin stared at him, uncomprehending, and Ryan sighed irritably.

“I don’t care how much you fucking dislike the dog, you can’t keep texting me just because you don’t want to walk a few steps past him. Suck it up, he’s not going anywhere and you keep interrupting me in the middle of work. Alright?”

Gavin bit his lip, chastised. And also rather nervous because a) Ryan was proper mad at him and b) _who would get rid of the dog for him now?!_

“Sorry,” he began quietly. “I didn’t realise it was-”

He broke off as the dog suddenly let out a deep, throaty bark, the loudest he’d heard from it yet. It was deafening, it was aggressive, and it was _terrifying_ , especially as he looked over and saw the dog staring up at a nearby tree in the middle of the lot. It had bristled up to twice its usual size and began to bark again, before it - horror of horrors - _growled_ , baring its teeth.

_Nope_. That was it. Gavin was _out._

The panic that gripped him was overwhelming. He barely even registered what he was doing as he stumbled back, flinching away behind Ryan in some innate instinct to get something else between him and the dog. His arms rose to shield his head as he cowered back against the wall of the building, chest clenched with fear, breathing so fast that it was making him feel lightheaded.

This wasn’t funny any more.

It never had been, not for him. But when the dog wasn’t actually acting aggressively, at some level he’d been aware of the irony of his two worst fears, Ryan and bloody dogs, combining. His sense of humour was fucked up enough at this point that to some degree, he’d appreciated how everything continuing to go worse and worse was probably some sort of karma for his many crimes, or proof of the existence of a God who really, really liked to fuck with him.

But anything remotely humorous had drained out of the situation in this moment, when he was abruptly reminded of exactly why he hated dogs in the first place. The second it started growling all he could think of was that night, and the pain of the teeth closing into his shoulder, and how fucking _scared_ he’d been, and how in a _second_ it could run over and leap at him and it would happen all over again-

“Obi!” Ryan snapped, and Gavin saw him start to walk towards it. Instinctively he reached out and grabbed at the back of Ryan’s jacket, afraid of being left standing here exposed - Ryan turned to look at him, but Gavin was too far gone to register the look on his face before he gently shook him off and walked over to the dog.

Gavin sank back against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut. He could feel himself shaking and struggled to breathe slowly - _in, out, in, out_ \- clinging to the fact that Ryan was with the dog, Ryan had it under control, it wouldn’t attack _him_ and he’d get rid of it the way he’d gotten rid of it every time before.

Sure enough, the horrible noises stopped a moment later and by the time he cracked his eyes open, it was to see the dog running off after the toy again. Ryan turned back towards him and Gavin realised his face was soft with concern.

“It’s alright,” he said, as he hurried back to Gavin’s side. “There was a raccoon in the tree and he got a bit excited.”

Gavin could only stare at him, arms wrapped around himself, still struggling to regulate his breathing. Ryan frowned and reached out, taking him gently by the arm and tugging him into the building. Gavin followed easily and sighed with relief when Ryan shut the door behind them. _Safe at last_.

“You okay?”

Ryan hadn’t let go of his arm; rather, he was rubbing it soothingly. His hand was very warm and Gavin found himself leaning into the touch, feeling suddenly exhausted as the shock of adrenaline faded away and he slowly got himself back under control.

“Gavin?” Ryan prompted, and he realised he hadn’t answered.

“Fine,” he croaked out, and there was a slightly awkward pause as he realised how close they were standing and that this was probably one of the few times Ryan had ever touched him. His felt his cheeks burning, embarrassed by just what had happened, but forced himself to look up and meet Ryan’s eyes.

The other man was still frowning, looking oddly serious now.

“You’re scared of the dog,” he said quietly, and Gavin blinked a few times.

“…no bloody kidding!” was all he managed to respond with, causing Ryan to startle back a bit, then huff out an awkward laugh.

“I didn’t know,” he said, and Gavin could only stare at him.

“Why the hell did you _think_ I was avoiding it so much?” he demanded, and Ryan threw his hands up.

“Michael told me you disliked them so I assumed it was just that. You know? There are some people who just can’t stand animals. I assumed you were just disgusted by them, didn’t want them to get you dirty or something.”

“I don’t hate animals,” Gavin replied, rather bewildered, “I’m just more of cat person.”

“That seems apparent.”

“I have three cats.”

“Wow,” Ryan said. “Okay, yeah, definitely a cat person. But honestly - I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you were that freaked out by him. The others didn’t tell me you had that big of an issue with dogs.”

Gavin sighed.

“Honestly, I don’t think they realised. When it… when it’s just a house dog it’s usually fine, as long as they stay away from me. But yours is really big and he kept coming up.”

“Were you always…” Ryan trailed off a bit awkwardly, not seeming sure of how to ask, but Gavin just shook his head.

“I got bitten by one a few years ago in England. Would’ve ripped my damn throat out if my friend hadn’t come in and helped me. They got used a lot more over there as guard dogs and attack dogs and stuff and since then I’ve been scared of them.”

“Well, I can promise you that Obi wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Ryan said, but all Gavin could think of was the hundreds of Daily Mail articles he’d masochistically read about dogs suddenly turning on their owners and attacking everyone they saw. All he did was bite his lip and look away, and after a moment Ryan sighed.

“But I’ll keep him away from you from now on,” he assured Gavin. “Just text me if you need me to come get him from somewhere and if I’m not around I’ll tell one of the others to move him.”

“Thanks,” Gavin whispered, and Ryan _smiled_ at him - a genuine, sweet little smile that made Gavin stare. Honestly, he was still taken aback by how _nice_ Ryan was being, and Michael’s words flooded back to him - _he was always like that_ \- after a moment he smiled back and Ryan reached out and squeezed his shoulder.

“I have to get back to work; you sure you’re okay?” he asked, and Gavin nodded.

“Yeah - yeah. I mean, I’ll probably have a drink as soon as I get to my office, but I’m good. Um. Thanks for that.”

“No worries. Remember, text me if you need anything.”

Gavin nodded, and Ryan smiled at him again before heading off back down the hallway. He kept glancing over his shoulder as though worried Gavin would suddenly collapse or start crying the second he turned his back, and something about just how _concerned_ he was touched Gavin. He took a deep breath, rubbing his shaking hands together as he collected himself.

_Well_ , he thought. That had been… interesting.

Ryan’s genuine willingness to accommodate him now that he understood the problem was… sweet, and unexpected, but Gavin certainly wasn’t complaining. And he felt a hell of a lot warmer towards the other man as he headed up to his own office.

Perhaps the Vagabond wasn’t so terrifying after all.

 

* * *

 

Gavin walked into his office the next morning to find Ryan standing in the corner, mask on and all, like the Grim Reaper come to collect his soul. He let out a rare “Fuck!” and nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight, only for Ryan to extend an arm and point to what he now noticed was a Starbucks cup in the middle of his desk.

“What’s this?” Gavin asked, still with one hand clasped dramatically to his chest.

“A sorry present,” Ryan informed him, and hearing the words ’ _sorry present_ ’ come out of the Vagabond’s mouth reduced the fear factor by 80% even with the mask on. “To make up for the dog being here.”

“Is this a mocha frappucino?” Gavin asked, and Ryan nodded.

“I asked Michael what you liked, he said it was that - is it right?” he asked, sounding almost _pitiful_ , and Gavin couldn’t help but smile a little.

“Yes, it’s what I like. Thanks, Ryan! You didn’t have to though.” He was picking up the drink and taking a big gulp before he even really thought about it. A few weeks ago he might’ve been suspicious that Ryan was trying to poison him or something. Now he was just like, _ooh, free drink._

For a moment it was delightful Starbucks goodness. Then he looked up and saw that Ryan was still just sort of standing there, watching him drink it, and he felt suddenly very awkward. Not knowing what to do, he continued to drink… and drink… and drink, until he felt the danger of impending brainfreeze and was forced to put it down.

“Um. Thanks,” he said again, and Ryan jolted as though he hadn’t thought Gavin was watching him.

“You’re welcome,” he replied.

Another awkward pause.

“Your living situation fixed yet?” Gavin couldn’t help asking, and Ryan sighed heavily and shook his head.

“I’ve been so busy I just haven’t had time. Sorry. If it helps at all,” he added, “I promise the dog isn’t going to bite you.”

Gavin shifted uncomfortably and busied himself sitting down at his desk. Here it came, the typical _dogs aren’t going to hurt you_ talk. He’d heard it a thousand times before and it _never_ convinced him.

Ryan seemed to notice his skepticism, because he stepped closer.

“I mean it,” he said. “He’s never bitten anyone in his life.”

“First time for everything, dude."

“He’s literally the friendliest dog in existence. I’ve had him since he was a puppy. Obi wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Look, mate,” Gavin said, a little fed up - this sort of talk was always a bit condescending. _Oh, you have nothing to worry about, you’re just being silly_ , fuck _that_ , he’d been bitten once before and it could happen again - “I don’t care if your dog is named after Obi-Wan Kenobi, it could turn to the dark side any minute and I bloody well don’t want to be around when it happens!”

Even behind the mask, he could tell that Ryan was startled. Then, to his surprise, the man started _laughing_. He had a very nice laugh, Gavin couldn’t help but notice, even through his astonishment - to be honest he’d only ever been able to envision Ryan going _mwahahaha_ very evilly. But this was not an evil laugh at all.

“Oh my God,” Ryan choked out after a moment, before collapsing in a fit of laughter again.

“What?” Gavin cried indignantly, getting the feeling he was the butt of some joke here.

“My… my dog isn’t called _Obi-Wan._ Jesus Christ. That’s hysterical.”

“Well what the hell is it called then?” Gavin snapped, feeling his cheeks burn.

It took Ryan a long while to recover, while Gavin sat there scowling at him feeling terribly embarrassed.

“Fucking _Obi-Wan_ ,” Ryan repeated, shaking his head, and Gavin pulled a face at him. “Holy shit, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in weeks. No, Obi’s short for Oberon.”

“What, like Midsummer Night’s Dream Oberon?” Gavin asked, and Ryan tilted his head.

“I’m… surprised you know that.”

“I’m not _actually_ a dumb blond,” Gavin said indignantly. “Seriously? You gave your dog a Shakespeare name? That’s… remarkably nerdy.”

“Excuse me,” Ryan replied, mock-offended. “I am an _intellectual_.”

“If you were gonna name it after something from there you should have called it Nick Bottom,” Gavin said. “It would be much harder for me to be scared of a dog if its name was Bottom.”

“I… I think you’re making that up, that’s not even a real character,” Ryan began, and Gavin spluttered indignantly.

“He’s the one what turned into a donkey! And you called yourself an _intellectual_. I’m going to prove it and if I’m right you have to buy me another Starbucks,” he announced.

One Google search later and now Ryan was the one embarrassed, which was certainly a sight; even with the mask on Gavin could tell how sheepish he was. He himself had dissolved into fits of giggles at being proved right, and after a moment Ryan sighed and took his mask off, rubbing his face. Gavin couldn’t help but grin at him and after a moment Ryan glanced up at him and smiled back.

“Honestly though,” he said. “Oberon would never bite you, I swear. If I bring him in here now and you just-”

“Do _not_ bring that bloody dog in here,” Gavin snapped, his laughter stopping immediately.

“I mean it. Just hang around him more and you’ll realise he’s-”

“ _Nope_ , we are not doing this,” Gavin said, scowling at him. “You think people haven’t tried this with me before? Spending more time around dogs is the absolute last thing I need. All that exposure therapy crap is just that, _crap_. I don’t believe in it.”

“But have you _tried it-_ ”

“I _mean it_ , Ryan, it doesn’t _work_ ,” Gavin said. And then, before he quite realised what he was saying, “Or I wouldn’t still be scared of _you_ , would I?”

“You’re scared of me?” Ryan asked, and Gavin kicked himself as he realised what he’d just said.

“I… I mean, the whole Vagabond thing,” he began, waving a hand about, “It’s intimidating!I mean, you go around chopping people up, it’s scary!”

“I’ve never chopped someone up in my life!” Ryan cried, and then paused and thought about it. “Okay, that one incident with the fire axe doesn’t count.”

Gavin had never heard that story. He was pretty sure he didn’t want to. But Ryan looked a bit _upset_ , now, staring down at his hands with eyes wide and almost hurt.

“You know all the shit gets built up, right?” he said to Gavin, almost tentatively. “My whole reputation. Just like yours does. Hell, you’re not meant to be scared of anything yet here you are pissing yourself over a dog.”

“I did not _piss_ myself,” Gavin said. _Yet,_ he thought, rather ominously. “I… look, I’m bad with new people, alright? It’s nothing personal.”

Ryan just sighed, and Gavin felt suddenly, inexplicably guilty-

Except, he realised suddenly, perhaps it wasn’t quite true. He _wasn’t_ scared of Ryan - not sitting here with him now, not after having been around him so much lately. If anything he was starting to realise that maybe the other man had never been all that scary at all.

“Hey,” he said, and reached out, tentatively poking at Ryan’s arm. “Now that I got to know you more, I don’t… I don’t think you’re what they say you are.”

Ryan gave a little smile. But he still seemed rather put out, and Gavin didn’t know what to do.

“I mean it,” was all he could say. And then, awkwardly, “Sorry.”

“No need to be sorry,” Ryan assured him hurriedly. He reached out and patted Gavin’s arm, then began to pull his mask on again. “Well, I need to be getting on. Things to do, people to chop up, y’know?”

Gavin laughed, delighted, and he saw Ryan’s lips twitch up as well before they vanished underneath that black skull. He gave a jaunty wave before heading out of the room and Gavin watched him go. When Ryan disappeared from his sight he realised that he was grinning stupidly out the door after him, and forced himself to stop, shaking his head as he turned back to his work.


	3. Chapter 3

Gavin found himself getting along much better with Ryan after that.

The other man started dropping by his office more and more - every other morning he’d show up with breakfast snacks. Coffee, or a hash brown, or a smoothie from the fancy place a few blocks away. The thing was, since Ryan was living at the base, it meant he was making an active effort to actually go out in the morning, get something for Gavin, then _come back_. And while Gavin appreciated the free food, he appreciated even more that Ryan was taking the time to do it - to seem less intimidating and make a push towards getting along better with him.

After a while Gavin started to feel bad enough about constantly being given stuff that he started buying Ryan dinner, and leaving it at the base with him before he went home for the night.

Ryan’s face always lit up when Gavin showed up at the living quarters, even if he seemed awkward at being given something, usually trying to insist that he could have made food himself. Still, he always accepted it and asked Gavin to stay and eat with him if he wanted. It must be weird, Gavin thought, staying back at the lonely, quiet base all night, even if they were used to working late. Being alone in such a big, empty building with no one else around - he didn’t think he’d be able to stand it.

They got along better at work as well.

Now that he wasn’t scared of Ryan any more, Gavin spoke to him more, on jobs, in meetings - teasing him about whatever new paint designs he was trying out, or making fun of his flubs (also, who pronounced _apex_ like that, seriously). Ryan gave as good as he got, snapping back remarks that Gavin might once have taken as threats but could now see as sarcasm more than anything else, Ryan playing up to his reputation for the sake of making fun of him. More than one meeting devolved into the two of them throwing pens or empty water bottles at each other.

This, of course, led to the others - especially Michael - watching the two of them in ever-growing amusement.

“Your new best friend is waiting for you,” he said to Gavin one day, when they bumped into each other as Gavin was rushing out to the car park.

After Jack had noticed them getting along better too, he’d finally put them on a job alone together. It was a little thing - a simple weapons deal - but Gavin was _excited_ about going out with Ryan now. He wasn’t quite sure why - he wasn’t nervous the way he usually was when forced to go out with the other man. Not scared, but thrilled almost.

He was also running extremely late. There was a wardrobe malfunction, by which he meant he managed to split his skintight jeans while climbing over a table to avoid Oberon, who was sleeping under it.

“Michael no,” he said. “You’re always gonna be my best friend.”

Michael laughed.

“Somewhere in England, Dan’s heart just broke,” he said. “Your new _boyfriend_ then.”

_“No_ , Michael,” Gavin repeated. His cheeks were burning and he didn’t know why he was so flustered - Michael was just teasing, they did it all the time, and even now Michael reached out and messed up his hair before wandering off, leaving Gavin standing spluttering.

_Boyfriend_ , he thought, and scoffed, shoving it away and hurrying out to meet Ryan.

The job went amazingly.

As soon as he was alone in the car with Ryan, Gavin suddenly found himself _shy_. It was stupid, because he’d hung out with Ryan on their own a number of times. He put it down to a combination of what Michael had said to him lingering at the back of his mind, and their being out of the base together for the first time in a while.

But it didn’t last long, and soon enough they were laughing away and bickering happily. Ryan was wonderful. He took the time to come up with good answers to Gavin’s silly questions, and he flubbed so much that Gavin couldn’t possibly feel like the stupid one. And it was nice, it was _exciting_ , to be getting along so well with someone so suddenly.

By the time they were done and heading back to the base, they’d fallen into a companionable silence. Ryan paused when they stopped at a light close to the base, glancing over at Gavin, who noticed him hesitate almost uncertainly.

“Wanna grab dinner before we head back?” Ryan asked.

Gavin blinked a few times. It was one thing to occasionally join Ryan for a pizza before he headed home for the night. Going out for dinner just the two of them was something they’d never done before.

But again, he felt a funny little thrill at the thought of spending more time together. Even with the mask on, he felt suddenly like Ryan was nervous and shy as well - there was something too quick in the way the question had come out, in how his fingers were fidgeting against the steering wheel.

“Sure,” he replied, and saw Ryan’s eyes crinkle into a smile under the mask.

 

* * *

 

“Brought you dinner!” Gavin announced, rapping at the door to Ryan’s room.

As he had been the last few weeks, Ryan was sitting at the desk in his little dorm room back at the base. He was wearing a faded t-shirt, his hair loose around his shoulders, and it was a sight Gavin had gotten used to recently. One that he had come to like; seeing Ryan under all the paint and leather.

“Smells good,” Ryan announced. “What is it this time?”

“Chinese,” Gavin replied, lifting the plastic take-away bag. “I may have gotten a bit too much.”

“Stay and share it with me then,” Ryan said, and shook his head. “You’re spoiling me. I’m getting too used to being given free food.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m actually eating breakfast every day now.” Gavin was moving to sit down with him at the table before he even really thought about it; maybe he was getting a bit too used to it, eating with someone else every night instead of sitting around at home with his cats. But Ryan hadn’t commented on it, so he certainly wasn’t about to either.

It was nice, sitting down and chatting with someone over dinner. They didn’t even talk about work things, really - Gavin somehow ended up telling Ryan a bit about what he’d used to do back in England, and Ryan began telling his own stories - he’d gone to university at one point, apparently - and it was interesting, getting to see more about his life. Seeing the man under the mask and actually knowing more about someone who he saw every single day. He couldn’t help but wonder how much of this the others knew already.

They had just finished eating and were settling into silence when there came a whine from the door.

Gavin stiffened in his seat immediately, pulling his legs up onto his chair. Ryan had glanced over at him, concerned, and Gavin swallowed hard as he watched the dog slink into the room.

“Over here, Obi.” Ryan held out a hand and the dog ran over to him, on the other side of the table to Gavin. Ryan started feeding it bits of leftover pork as Gavin watched, transfixed by its massive maw taking the food from Ryan’s hand. Ryan looked up at him and gave a small smile.

“If you want to escape, now’s your chance,” he said, but Gavin couldn’t move. Not because he was scared of the dog, but because it felt suddenly rude to leave so abruptly. He was tense, yes, but not on the verge of panic - not when Ryan was here and he knew he could keep the animal under control.

He swallowed, and shook his head.

“I… I’m okay.”

“You sure?” Ryan asked, and Gavin gave a jerky nod.

“Just keep it over there near you.”

“As long as I’m feeding him, he won’t go anywhere,” Ryan chuckled, offering the dog a piece of bok choy. Gavin had not been aware that dogs could eat vegetables. He watched in fascination, flinching every time the dog’s mouth got near Ryan’s fingers - but he always came away unharmed.

“You already had your dinner out there and now you’ve come in here for seconds,” Ryan tutted. He put the leftover bowl of rice on the floor and the dog dived into it, distracted for the time being while Ryan moved to pack away the finished takeaway boxes. Gavin moved to help him, casting wary glances at the dog from the corner of his eye, but it was quite absorbed with eating and he took the chance to get out of his seat and follow Ryan out of the room to the garbage disposal down the hall.

He couldn’t help but give a sigh of relief when they got into the corridor, and Ryan looked over at him.

“Alright?” he asked, and Gavin nodded.

“How come the dog eats vegetables?” he asked, and Ryan laughed.

“He’ll eat anything. He’s too fat now, the others fed him too much. I need to put him on a diet.”

“That seems mean,” Gavin couldn’t help saying, being the owner of the three most spoiled cats in the world, and Ryan laughed again.

“It’d be mean to let him get overweight. At least here he has room to run around in the car park.” He threw the rubbish away and turned back to Gavin. “You headed home now?”

Gavin hesitated.

“Were you gonna show me some photos?” he asked - they’d been talking over dinner about a bike Ryan was thinking of buying - and the other man nodded, his eyes lighting up.

“You wanted to see those now?” he asked eagerly, and sounded so excited about it that Gavin could only nod. They headed back into the bedroom only for Gavin to hesitate - the dog was lying on a rug in the middle of the floor now, and although it looked like it was sleeping, it lifted its head lazily and stared at them with one great, rolling eye as they entered.

Gavin gulped, but the dog didn’t bother getting up, and after a second Ryan put a hand on the small of his back and steered him around the room to sit on the couch behind it. For a moment Gavin thought they were safe - but as soon as Ryan sat down, the dog got up, walked closer to them, and then plonked itself directly on top of Ryan’s feet before appearing to sleep again. Gavin squeaked in surprise, but Ryan just rolled his eyes.

“I’m his personal pillow,” he said, and pulled his phone out, effectively distracting Gavin enough with pictures of expensive motorbikes to make him nearly forget that the dog was right in front of them.

They ended up talking for so long that Gavin barely realised it had gotten so late until they finally fell silent and he glanced at his watch to realise it was past midnight. Ryan noticed at the same time, and gave a small smile.

“You should head home,” he said. “Sorry for keeping you.”

“No, it was… fun,” Gavin replied, and Ryan’s smile widened. He reached down and scratched at the dog’s ears, and Gavin jolted - he’d nearly forgotten it was there. Ryan looked over at him and seemed thoughtful.

“Pat him,” he said, and Gavin’s eyes widened.

“I… I can’t.”

“Come on - he’s half asleep, he won’t mind. He’s not going to bite you. Just like this.” Ryan’s hand stroked along the dog’s side and Gavin bit his lip.

The thing was, part of him _wanted_ to. He didn’t think he’d ever be completely comfortable around dogs again, but here and now with Ryan next to him - he wasn’t as scared as he usually was, and taking at least one little step to overcome his fear would make being at the base around this thing a hell of a lot more bearable.

Also, Ryan was staring at him so encouragingly, and the thought of disappointing him made Gavin feel bad suddenly.

_The others touch the dog all the time and they’re still all limbs intact_ , he thought, and took a deep breath. He began to reach out, tentatively, but paused at the last minute.

“Come on,” Ryan said softly, and Gavin glanced over at him helplessly, hand still outstretched. Ryan hesitated too, but then reached out and took Gavin’s hand, pulling it down the last few centimetres to rest against the dog’s side.

Gavin could feel himself shaking. And he was nervous, sure, but his chest wasn’t tight, he didn’t feel seconds from panic the way he usually did around a dog this big. After a minute Ryan let go of him, leaving him sitting leaning forward, with his hand awkwardly against the dog.

It wasn’t as soft as his cats. Its fur was short and almost bristly. But it was very warm, and he could feel its stomach rising and falling softly under his hand as it breathed. After a moment he tentatively stroked its side a few times and it relaxed back further against Ryan’s legs, panting happily. Gavin nearly smiled before he slowly drew his hand back.

“See?” Ryan whispered. “Nothing to worry about.”

Gavin let out a shaky sigh.

“Still prefer cats,” he said, and Ryan let out a startled laugh. Gavin gave a small grin, but then looked away, folding his hands together.

“This doesn’t mean I’m okay with it now,” he warned Ryan, who nodded.

“That’s understandable,” he said. “These things take time. You said you got bitten by one?”

Gavin nodded. He’d told the story enough times by now that it didn’t make him that uneasy. “It knocked me over and I hit my head pretty bad. And then it bit me. Look at this scar!” he added, pulling his shirt away from his shoulder.

Ryan hissed in sympathy. Even if it had faded over the years and the teeth marks weren’t all that visible, you could still tell that something severe had happened, and it was in a nasty place around Gavin’s collarbone. After a second he reached out and touched it - Gavin stiffened at the sudden contact, at the pressure of Ryan’s thumb pressing in close to his throat as his fingers rubbed over the raised flesh.

“Ouch,” Ryan said, sympathetically, and Gavin snorted.

“Ouch is an understatement,” he said, and fought not to shiver as Ryan’s hand pulled away. “So yeah. That’s… that’s why I can’t just get over it, y’know? I mean, I know we get shot at all the time but it… it’s different, an animal jumping on top of you. I don’t know.”

“No, I get it,” Ryan assured him. He hesitated, then added, “I know it seems like the Vagabond shouldn’t be scared of anything. But I had a parachute fail on me a few years ago and now I adamantly refuse to use them.”

“Wait, really?” Gavin asked - he’d never seen Ryan scared of anything before, but he was nodding now.

“Yeah. I mean, I have to deal with heights all the time - just part of the job when you’re sniping something - but they make me pretty uncomfortable, and I refuse to ever jump off anything.”

“Did you get hurt the first time?”

“Broke my arm,” Ryan said, rotating it, “Nothing serious. I was lucky, I landed in water. But once something goes wrong once, you worry it can happen again, right?”

Gavin nodded.

“Parachutes can be a bit dodge,” he agreed. “I didn’t know that happened to you.”

“I’m just saying. I get why you’re scared of him.” He scratched at the dog with his foot, fondly. “But even if I don’t like parachutes, I can deal with heights okay now. And I’m glad that tonight you seemed better with him.”

Gavin nodded again. Ryan reached out and clapped him on the shoulder, and he smiled back at him.

“Anyway,” Ryan said then. “Time to call it a night. Thanks for dinner.”

“Right - right. No worries.” Gavin scrambled up off the couch - the dog looked up, but he barely noticed it, distracted by waving goodbye to Ryan before he quickly left. His heart was pounding but it wasn’t from fear. Part of him just couldn’t quite believe that Ryan had opened up to him like that, and he felt remarkably closer to the other man as he headed off home.

 

* * *

 

After that night, Gavin didn’t mind the dog quite so much, as long as Ryan was around.

Having touched it once already, it wasn’t quite as nerve-wracking to give it a quick pat, at least when Ryan was next to him and the dog was dozing. He even gave it treats a couple of times - he refused to hand feed it, but it wasn’t so bad to throw a treat and watch the dog catch it.

Still. He didn’t fancy the thought of encountering it when he was on his own-

Which, of course, was exactly what happened about a week later.

Ray was on a hit. Michael and Ryan had gone off to do a job together. Jack was at a meeting with Burnie - Geoff was still away, though he was due back soon. Which left Gavin, alone in the base except for a few of B-Team, although he wasn’t sure where in the building they were.

He was, once more, sitting in the kitchen eating his lunch, when he heard a commotion of barking at the door. He stiffened, lowering his sandwich, heart already pounding at the noise.

_It’s fine_ , he told himself, _it’s fine, it’s probably just a raccoon again, just ignore it and it’ll go away-_

No such luck. Only moments later he heard the dog’s footsteps, and then it appeared in the kitchen doorway.

“You’re not having my lunch again!” Gavin cried, grabbing his sandwich protectively - but the dog didn’t come up to him. Just stood in the doorway and barked frantically. Every noise made Gavin jump but after a moment he frowned, lowering the sandwich.

“What?” he asked.

The dog whined. It was staring directly at him and barking repeatedly and after a moment it turned, started to leave the room, then paused, staring over its shoulder at Gavin like it wanted him to _follow_ it.

Dear God, it was trying to _communicate_.

Gavin hesitated. But he had seen the dog grab Ryan’s arm in its mouth and try and pull him to the cupboard where he kept its treats, and he was worried that if he didn’t go with it now it would do the same to him. He slipped out of his chair and the dog ran off, obviously expecting him to follow.

It was headed for the main door of the base, and Gavin frowned as he approached and saw someone standing outside. Oberon paused, barking frantically at the door, before running back over to Gavin, who flinched - the dog just ran behind him though, yapping hysterically.

For a moment he was rather alarmed at the thought of some intruder at the door. Then a second later he recognised it as Blaine, and laughed.

He must have come here from a job, because he was covered in grime and blood. Even if Ryan claimed that Oberon was an awful guard dog and friendly to everyone, it seemed even he was wary at the sight of a strange man covered in _blood_ at the door.

“It’s fine,” Gavin said, moving to open it. “It’s just Blaine.”

“Whose damn dog is that?” Blaine asked, as soon as the door opened. “It scared the shit out of me.”

“It’s Ryan’s,” Gavin replied, ushering him inside. “You okay?”

“My fucking car blew up. I walked here; it was closer than Burnie’s base.”

“I… okay. There is a story behind this, I’m guessing,” Gavin laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Go clean yourself up, dude.”

It seemed that the second Gavin interacted with Blaine, he became a Trusted Friend, because the dog immediately relaxed and proceeded to walk up to him, tail wagging. Blaine was instantly cooing all over it and Gavin rolled his eyes as he stepped back.

Part of him couldn’t help feeling oddly touched at the fact that the dog had come to get him at the first sign of trouble. He’d assumed that it might somehow know that he didn’t like it - but apparently, it trusted him, and the fact that it had tried to protect the base from what it thought might be a threat made him somehow like it a lot more.

“Your dog came to get me when someone was at the door,” he informed Ryan when he got back that night.

“Good boy,” Ryan said immediately, and threw a chicken nugget over his shoulder to where the dog was lying on the floor behind the couch. Gavin couldn’t help but laugh.

“If Geoff’s mad when he comes back, it won’t be because the dog’s here, it’ll be because he finds food lying around all over the place,” he said. “We’ll get cockroaches. And it’ll be _your_ problem because you live here.”

“I’m not scared of cockroaches,” Ryan scoffed.

“For real though,” Gavin said. “Your dog thinks I’m his friend now?”

“A friend of mine is a friend of his,” Ryan said, and grinned, and for some reason Gavin couldn’t help but feel funnily flustered by that. Because before now, they’d been _colleagues,_ sure, and had the bond that came with being on the same crew - but he’d avoided Ryan so much that he certainly didn’t consider the two of them friends. To here Ryan say it so easily now was somehow touching.

He didn’t even mind being called the _dog’s_ friend, not if it had Ryan smiling at him like that, seeming delighted that Gavin hadn’t run screaming in the other direction the second the dog came up to him.

 

* * *

 

Things changed after that. Not with the dog - with the two of them. Or at least, they did for Gavin.

It was silly, he told himself. It was just the excitement of getting to know Ryan better, of suddenly starting to find out so much more about him-

But he couldn’t deny it, even to himself. He liked spending time with the other man a little too much.

They’d gone on a couple more jobs together since that first one, and every single time Gavin found himself far too excited, too focused on the fact that he was out with _Ryan_ , just the two of them.

There’d been a trip to a museum, to check out some exhibits and scope out, y’know, what they might break in and _take_ in the future. And that had been fun - exchanging banter, Gavin trying maybe a bit too hard to impress Ryan with his knowledge of history (and when that failed, his knowledge of how to at least _steal_ historical artefacts). Feeling too self-conscious, the way he always did around people he liked - too aware of the hand that Ryan put on his arm to steady him when he nearly tripped on the stairs, or when he was guiding Gavin through a crowd of people and didn’t want to lose him-

Of how going out to eat together afterwards felt too much like a date, especially when Ryan insisted on paying (“I owe you for all the dinners,” he’d said, like he didn’t still bring Gavin breakfast every morning that they were both in the base).

Another time. A stakeout, spending hours in a car alone together late at night. They’d talked about relationships - how it was hard trying not to drag civilians into this, but also hard to trust others in their business. Ryan had told him about how he’d been single for a long time - Gavin had as well. And he’d caught the other man sneaking him glances, whenever there was a lull in the conversation, and couldn’t tell if he was reading too much meaning into it.

He fell asleep on the way back to the base, after their mark failed to show up at all and it was nearing dawn. Woke up to Ryan’s beaten leather jacket draped over him and the other man shaking his shoulder gently and felt so flustered that he couldn’t even speak, just stuttered out a “Goodnight - I mean - good morning - what?” and escaped to his own car as quickly as possible.

He’d started noticing too much about Ryan now.

How good he looked when his beard grew out a little. How blue his eyes were.

How he liked him both when he’d just come back from his job, when he had that hard edge - not scary, now - black paint smudged around his eyes and a fierce grin on his face and the ease with which he could sling a rifle over his shoulder.

But Ryan in his soft hoodies with his hair loose as well, sitting around the base reading a book or making a cup of tea. Ryan with glasses perched on the end of his nose, Ryan who looked sleepy in the mornings-

He’d gone from being terrified of him to having a _crush_ on him.

Well, fuck.

The thing was - Gavin was the least confident person in the world when it came to making a move on someone. But Ryan - Ryan behaved around him in a way that seemed almost _shy_ sometimes, and his teasing was as affectionate as Michael’s but undercut with something else. Something that made Gavin think - if he wasn’t mistaken, _God_ he hoped he wasn’t mistaken - that their sudden move towards friendship maybe wasn’t just friendship.

That maybe Ryan liked him too.

_Don’t get ahead of yourself here, Free_ , he thought, kicking himself for the hundredth time when he noticed Ryan watching him across the boardroom during a meeting and felt his own cheeks heat up. _You only just became friends_.

_Don’t fuck up this whole thing before it even starts._

 

* * *

 

Since the time when the dog had come to get him, Gavin had been infinitely more tolerable of it. If the dog considered him a friend, then surely it wouldn’t attack him.

Still. Even if he wasn’t as scared of it as he used to be, it was still a shock when he came into the base one night carrying dinner - everyone else had gone home - and was met, as soon as he entered, by the sight of the dog thundering towards him at full speed.

He was carrying a plastic bag of food and it smelt pretty strongly of meat. It seemed to have worked Oberon into a state of great excitement, and Gavin barely had time to register what was happening before the dog was jumping up at him trying to get to the bag.

“Oi!” was all he managed to get out. He’d automatically swung the bag out of reach and Oberon came right up to him and jumped up, front paws scrabbling against Gavin’s chest.

First, _panic_. The dog’s face was right in his, and he could feel its warm breath and all he could see were its _teeth_ and it really was about as tall as him when it stood up like that-

The next thing he knew, he was falling backwards, because holy shit that was a _big, heavy dog_ and he wasn’t exactly a big guy himself. When it jumped at him it knocked him backwards under its weight and he hit the linoleum floor hard, the bag flying from his hand and spilling away next to him.

The dog was immediately distracted by the food, but Gavin was winded from his fall and the fact that he couldn’t breathe for a second only made him freak out more. Without even realising it he curled in on himself, struggling to get his breath back, expecting teeth to come snapping at him at any moment. The shock of the dog jumping at him had brought him right back to that night - his stomach was churning, a heavy pressure bearing down on his chest as he brought his arms up to protect his head-

“Gavin!” Ryan’s voice called out, and the familiarity of it settled over him like a blanket, soothing him. He heard footsteps and then a warm hand rested on his shoulder. He leaned into the touch, eyes opening to see Ryan’s concerned face hovering over him.

“Gavin,” Ryan repeated, hand curling around his arm as he tried to tug it away from his face. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Gavin opened his mouth but nothing came out. He was still breathing too fast and he could hear the dog eating behind him, could see it out of the corner of his eye. It only freaked him out more and he clutched at the front of Ryan’s shirt, gasping, curling in close to him and trying not to look at the dog.

Ryan’s arms wrapped around him, hugging him close as he pulled him to his feet and walked him out of the room.

“Hey - hey, you’re okay. You’re okay, calm down, alright?” His hands ran down Gavin’s arms, straightening his jacket before he pulled him into another hug. Gavin hugged him back tightly, and even if they’d never gotten this close before, there seemed something comfortingly familiar about Ryan’s strong warmth, the protective circle of his arms, the soft fabric of his worn old t-shirt against Gavin’s cheek. He breathed in deeply, let it out slow, and felt himself start to calm.

“Did you hit your head?” Ryan asked quietly and Gavin pulled back a bit and shook his head.

“The dog’s eating your dinner,” was all he managed to stutter out, inanely, and Ryan sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I really am, I didn’t realise he was out there by the door. He always gets too excited when he smells food. You’re sure you’re not hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Gavin assured him, and sighed shakily. Ryan let go of him, stepping back, and Gavin wrapped his arms around himself, suddenly missing the touch. He felt jittery and nervous still, and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, Ryan was staring at him in concern.

“He knocked you over?” he asked, and Gavin nodded.

“Yeah.” He gave a tight smile. “Not fun.”

“I’m sorry,” Ryan said again, looking rather distressed. He seemed so upset that Gavin couldn’t even be angry - and honestly, he was surprised that he himself wasn’t freaked out more. Was he shaken, yes, and he knew the jitters could last another hour if he was unlucky. But there was a time when the mere sight of the dog running at him, let alone jumping on him, would’ve had him catatonic. Maybe it would hit him later tonight, but for now he was doing remarkably well and could only focus on the fact that Ryan was upset. He didn’t like that.

“I’m really okay,” he assured him. He reached up, rubbing the back of his head - he’d knocked it on the floor, but not too hard. Ryan frowned and reached out, touching it as well - Gavin closed his eyes when the other man’s fingers brushed against his hair, unable to help himself leaning into the touch. He sighed again, shoulders relaxing further, and Ryan dropped his hand down to his shoulder.

“Good,” he said softly, and Gavin smiled at him.

There was a flicker of movement from the corner of his eye and he turned to see Oberon slinking into the corridor from the other room. A little shock ran through him and he pressed closer against Ryan’s side, the other man automatically wrapping an arm around him. The dog’s tail was wagging but Gavin still didn’t like the sight of it, not after what had just happened, half-fearing it’d leap at him again.

“Bad dog,” Ryan said immediately, pointing at him. His voice was angry and scolding and had the dog shrinking back, ears and tail drooping mournfully. “Jumping at Gavin like that. You ate the whole thing, didn’t you? You hear me, Obi? You’ve been very bad.”

Oberon looked so terribly sad that it was hard to see him as terrifying - not when he’d shrunk to half his size and was staring up at Ryan pitifully. Gavin was still clutching at Ryan’s sleeve, but he peered around him at the dog now and couldn’t help feeling a bit sorry for it.

“Don’t yell at him,” he said. “Maybe he was just hungry.”

Ryan glanced over at him, surprised, then seemed to be unable to help his laugh.

“I can’t believe _you’re_ defending him,” he said, and Gavin’s lips twitched.

“I know he didn’t attack me. He just wanted the food,” he said, and Ryan looked at him for a long moment. Gavin stared back up at him - there was something very soft in Ryan’s eyes; he seemed pleased that Gavin wasn’t angry, but there was something else under it. Something almost affectionate that made Gavin drop his own eyes, suddenly self conscious.

Ryan stepped away from Gavin’s side then, moving to shoo Oberon away.

“Go, go! Back to our room, come on.”

The dog scampered out, but with Ryan away from him, Gavin shook himself, feeling like some spell had been broken. By the time the other man turned back to him he felt suddenly flustered and unsure of himself.

“I might go home now,” he said, and Ryan nodded understandingly. He stepped forward and reached out, pressing Gavin’s wrist.

“Okay,” he said. “You’ll be okay on your own?”

“Yeah, I’m all good.”

“I mean it,” Ryan insisted. “These things can hit you later on. It must’ve freaked you out. I know he’s a big dog.”

“I’ll call you if it does,” Gavin said, without even thinking about it - then froze as he realised what he’d just said.

The idea that Ryan could be the one to help if he panicked suddenly in the middle of the night was… novel, to say the least. It was usually Geoff he called if he needed help of that sort, or Burnie - not even Michael, close as they were.

But Ryan - it felt somehow like in this particular situation, he could help - like it was right. Still, he hesitated, unsure if he’d been a bit presumptuous.

Ryan, however, was nodding immediately.

“Do, if you need to,” he said. “I mean it.”

“I will,” Gavin said quietly.

“Good,” Ryan said. His hand slipped away from Gavin’s arm and he smiled; Gavin smiled back before turning and heading out.

Out in the car park it was dark and cold and he felt suddenly a bit shaky again at the memory of the dog jumping at him, at hitting the ground, at how similar it had been to that other dark night back in England-

But over the panic was the delight of remembering Ryan’s arms around him, his fingers in Gavin’s hair, the warmth of his hand on Gavin’s shoulder. He clung to that, his own secret, almost guilty little reassurance, holding it close as he headed for home.

 

* * *

 

Gavin must have been doing better than he’d thought, because he expected nightmares only to end up being totally fine. He had a drink as soon as he got home, then slept through the night and felt fine in the morning. He wasn’t even dreading going into work and seeing the dog too badly-

Mostly because when he woke up he remembered, suddenly, that Geoff would be back today.

He couldn’t remember their leader having been gone for such a long stretch before, and it didn’t help that they hadn’t been in contact with him - they changed phones a lot when they travelled while in the middle of planning something, and right now it had been Lindsay’s job to keep track of Geoff’s contact details and keep him updated on their progress.

Gavin missed him a lot, so he was eager to be there early enough to meet him, and hurried to leave only to pause at the door when his phone buzzed with a text from Ryan.

_‘Everything okay?’_ was all he’d said, but Gavin knew he was asking if he’d been alright last night. It was sweet of him to check and it made him smile far too much to think of Ryan back at the base, just woken up with his hair messy, staring down at his own phone with that little concerned frown of his.

He himself somehow managed to achieve the feat of rewriting the extremely simple text ‘ _All good’_ eight times while trying to figure out what the appropriate closing punctuation was.

An exclamation mark? A full stop? That might sound too curt, right? What about a smiley face, to show he appreciated that Ryan cared - or _three_ smiley faces! No, that seemed too manic. A tilde was far too cutesy. He ended up going with a very neutral _:’)_ under the belief that the tear gave it an air of casualness.

In fact, he dithered so long about the text that he ended up only just making it to the base before Geoff did. It was early - Geoff’d had an overnight flight - so Ryan was the only other person there, and it seemed he’d been waiting for Geoff, too, because he opened the door for Gavin, greeting him with a smile.

Gavin smiled back, but before they could really say anything to each other, the gate into the parking lot opened and they turned to see Geoff pulling in, only minutes behind him. Gavin was immediately distracted by waving frantically; he watched Geoff park, get out of the car, and then pause for a long moment looking at something on the ground before he turned and headed into the building.

“ _Geoffrey_!” Gavin screamed immediately, as soon as he walked in the door.

“I stepped in dog shit!” Geoff screamed back, making both of them freeze. “Why the fuck is there _dog shit_ in the car park? Who let a dog in here? There is dog shit _on my shoe at this very moment_!”

He proceeded to hop about on one foot waving his sneaker at them, Gavin recoiling back in fear of some impending kung-shoe’ing.

He and Ryan exchanged a glance, but before either of them could reply, the culprit himself rounded the corner and padded into the room. Gavin saw the moment that Geoff noticed the dog - he froze, lowering his foot, while Oberon stared back at him. After a second he seemed to decide that he was a friend, and ran up to him, nosing at his hand before turning to potter back over to Ryan, tongue lolling out and looking very happy as Ryan automatically reached to pat him.

At the sight of the dog Gavin couldn’t help but cringe back a bit, stepping away from Ryan’s side. He wasn’t terrified the way he usually was, but instinctively alarmed after what’d happened last night, and Geoff glanced over at him in concern.

“Why is there a dog in here?” he demanded, and rounded on Ryan. “There can’t be a dog in here.”

“Oh,” Ryan said sadly.

“It’s your dog?” Geoff asked, and Ryan nodded, looking more ruffled than Gavin had ever seen him.

“Yeah, I… he’s been staying here because I’ve been living at the base while I sort out finding a new place, I-”

“That’s a fucking enormous dog,” Geoff said - and he usually _liked_ dogs, which had Gavin a bit confused when he added, “It can’t stay."

Ryan bit his lip, obviously put out but not wanting to argue with Geoff - who at that moment, looked over at _Gavin_ again, and he suddenly realised exactly why he was being so strict about it. Geoff was the only one of the crew who properly knew how scared he was of dogs, the only one who’d actually seen him interact with them firsthand, and while he’d given Gavin his fair share of teasing over it, it seemed when push came to shove his protective instincts still kicked in.

“I don’t know how you convinced Gavin to let you bring that in here in the first place,” he continued, turning back to Ryan and stepping in front of Gavin a little, “But it has to go. The second it gets near him-”

“ _Oh_ ,” Ryan cut in, realisation dawning. “That’s why you don’t want it in here? No, Gavin’s fine with it.”

“Ryan,” Geoff said, warningly.

“What?”

“Gav’s a pushover,” Geoff snapped, “He’ll let people get away with anything just because he doesn’t want to tell them no-”

“I’m right here, you know!” Gavin cried, rather indignantly. When Geoff turned to him, eyebrows raised, he swallowed hard and declared, “And I’m fine with the dog.”

Geoff stared at him for a long moment.

“I once saw you climb a fucking _tree_ to get away from a schnauzer,” he said slowly, and Gavin saw Ryan press his lips together to avoid laughing.

“Look,” he said defensively. “That was a special circumstance. And it was a big schnauzer, not one of those little mini ones.”

“Gav…” Geoff began, and trailed off. Gavin could see how concerned he was, and it was kind of touching.

Because he’d laughed about with the others, yeah, and told the story pretty sarcastically - but Geoff had seen him genuinely freak out the one time that the two of them had ended up in a warehouse with dogs guarding parts of it. He knew that it wasn’t a joke, not really.

Gavin swallowed again, and smiled, reaching out to touch Geoff on the arm.

“It’s really fine, Geoff,” he assured him. “I’m not scared of this one. Well, I am, but,” he glanced over at Oberon, still wagging his tail obliviously where Ryan was crouched down next to him, one hand on his back. “It’s bearable. I even patted it! I’m fine with it staying; don’t make Ryan have to go find somewhere else to live.”

Ryan smiled a bit. He had his fingers through the dog’s collar, holding it still, and after a second Gavin started towards him, thinking to prove to Geoff that he was fine. Ryan’s smile faltered.

“Gavin,” he began, obviously worried - but Gavin shot him a determined look.

Sure, he was a bit shaky after last night’s incident, but Ryan was holding onto the dog and he inched towards it before reaching out and tentatively rubbing his knuckles across its forehead. Oberon’s eyes narrowed into happy slits as his mouth opened further, panting happily. Gavin pulled his hand back and turned to Geoff.

“See?” he said.

Geoff was staring at him, looking genuinely shocked.

“Did you just touch the dog?” he demanded. “Oh my God. Am I drunk or did he just _touch the dog_?”

“Well, I can’t speak for your state of sobriety,” Ryan began, managing to mangle the word _sobriety_ so badly that Gavin nearly choked on his own spit trying not to laugh. “But yes, he did.”

“He just touched the dog,” Geoff repeated incredulously. “How the hell did you make him okay enough with dogs to _pat_ one? That thing looks like a fucking wolf!”

Ryan just grinned, glancing over at Gavin, who smiled back and then reached out and touched the dog’s side with one finger again, just to mess with Geoff. After a moment, the other man shook himself.

“Okay,” he said, and looked over at Gavin, seeming reassured to see him smiling. “Okay. He can stay. But invest in a fucking pooper scooper, I’m serious. I come home after weeks away and I’m greeted with _literal_ shit. That’s not cool.”

“Sorry,” Ryan said, and Geoff finally grinned at him.

“All good,” he said, and turned to Gavin. “Now come here, you.”

He waved his arms, trying to usher Gavin in to hug him, but Gavin danced out of the way.

“Get your poo shoe away from me,” he said, still not trusting Geoff to wipe it on him or something. He leaned forward and tried to hug Geoff from comically far away, their bodies barely touching, but Geoff yanked him closer and squeezed him tightly, messing his hair up as Gavin squawked and struggled. When they finally pulled apart Geoff did, indeed, start kicking the shoe towards him until Gavin was forced to turn and run away down the corridor.

By the time he deemed it safe to return, Geoff had gone, presumably to put his stuff back in his rooms here at the base. Ryan was still crouched next to Oberon, patting him, and he looked up as Gavin came back in.

“Hey,” Gavin said.

“Hey,” Ryan replied, smiling. “Thanks for that.”

“No worries.”

“No, I mean it.” Ryan straightened up, looking over at him intently. “After last night I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted Oberon out of here. I really appreciate it - this is literally the thing you’re most scared of and you’re putting up with it for me.”

“I don’t mind,” Gavin replied, but Ryan was still shaking his head.

“I promise I’ll get out of here soon,” he said. “After I finish this job I’m working on - it’ll take a few days, tops - I’ll start properly looking for a new place. Then we’ll both get out of your hair,” he added, glancing down at the dog, who had run over to the door and was staring longingly outside, obviously itching to go out for its morning run.

Gavin stiffened.

A few weeks ago he’d’ve been delighted to have the dog out of here. But now all he could think was that he wouldn’t see Ryan off-hours anymore. Wouldn’t catch glimpses of him in his home clothes, casually around the base - wouldn’t be here at the same time as him in the mornings - wouldn’t bring him dinner anymore, or have a coffee with him in the mornings.

He felt upset suddenly, _disappointed_ , and couldn’t look at Ryan as he said, quietly:

“Well, there’s no rush.”

“No, I can’t just keep living here,” Ryan said. “It’s a bit disruptive to everyone, me keeping all my stuff and my dog here. Although I’m sure Obi will miss being spoiled by everybody.”

Gavin bit his lip, looking away.

“Hey,” Ryan said, gently. “Why the long face?”

“I like seeing you here,” Gavin blurted out, and Ryan went silent for a long moment.

Gavin clenched his jaw, kicking himself. He still wasn’t looking at Ryan - suddenly certain he’d admitted too much, had misjudged everything and pushed too far-

“You know we can meet up outside of work,” Ryan replied, and Gavin’s head snapped up. He finally looked at Ryan to find the other man holding back a smirk as he continued, “A novel concept, I’m sure.”

“You… You’d want to do that?” Gavin asked, tentatively, and Ryan nodded.

“I mean,” he said then, a bit awkwardly, “If you want to.”

“Oh,” Gavin replied, and was suddenly a bit lost for words. Ryan looked a bit flustered when he didn’t answer.

“Don’t you hang out with the others all the time?” he asked.

“That’s different,” Gavin said. “You don’t drink. We go to the pub, or for swimmy bevs.”

“I don’t know what the fuck swimmy bevs is, but that sounds like a you and Michael thing.”

“Yeah,” Gavin said, with a small smile, and Ryan grinned back.

“Well, maybe I won’t join you for that,” he laughed. “But we could still go out.”

“Just us?” Gavin asked, still not quite able to wrap his head around it.

Ryan looked very embarrassed now - almost shy - but all Gavin could do was stare at him, wide eyed, and after a moment Ryan nodded again.

“Yeah, just us,” he replied. “Like… dinner or something. In fact, we could go tonight. Uh. If you wanted.”

“Out to dinner.”

“Yeah.”

Gavin stared at him. His stomach was fluttering - it felt cliched to call it butterflies, but it sure as hell felt like that, a flickering excitement as he tried to work out if this was a _date_ or not - hoping against hope that it was, but desperate not to presume and make a humiliating mistake that’d fuck things up between them.

“Just you and me out at dinner,” he repeated, slowly, and Ryan promptly exploded:

“I’m trying to ask you out here!”

“ _Oh_ ,” was all Gavin could say, and Ryan broke down into nervous laughter. After a moment Gavin started giggling too, feeling very silly, especially when the dog got excited at the noise they were making and ran back over to Ryan, nudging at his hands until he patted it.

“If that’s okay with you,” Ryan continued, glancing up at Gavin as he tried to grab for Oberon’s collar to calm him down.

“Yes, it is,” Gavin replied immediately. “It is very okay with me.”

“Good,” Ryan said, grinning.

“Good,” Gavin repeated.

He smiled very widely and Ryan was smiling too. After a moment they both started laughing again, and any remaining nervousness drained away in place of a burning, excited sort of _glee_.

“God,” Ryan said, when he’d recovered himself. “I used to wonder why you’d avoid me all the time when I could see how close you were to the others.”

“I’m sorry,” Gavin began, but Ryan shook his head.

“No, it made you seem kind of mysterious, if you can believe it.” He shook his head fondly. “I just thought you were either really awkward, or really up yourself.”

“Mostly awkward,” Gavin murmured.

“ _Mostly_ ,” Ryan teased. “No, but seriously. Actually finally hanging out with you the last few weeks has been amazing. You’re a lot of fun. And very brave,” he added, sincerely, glancing at the dog again. “And I will be looking forward to dinner tonight, even if we’ve had about sixteen together already.”

“Those were different,” Gavin said, but he could feel himself blushing at how much Ryan sounded like he meant it; the deep affection in his voice. There was so much he wanted to say back - how Ryan was sweet, and not scary at all, and he hated himself for wasting months avoiding him when he turned to be so hilarious and clever and _kind_ , at least to people in his crew.

But before he could get any of it out, the dog starting yapping and jumping up at Ryan, obviously put out about being ignored. Ryan laughed as he rubbed its head.

“As for you, you troublemaker,” he said. “You’d better go and win Geoff over after your _shitty_ first impression.”

“Boo,” Gavin groaned, and Ryan cast him a mischievous grin. Gavin could only shake his head. “I don’t think he’ll have a problem winning anyone over. He’s like his owner. Looks very scary, but is actually very loveable.”

“Aww,” Ryan said, but Gavin could see how his eyes were shining, his cheeks flushed.

“I still prefer cats though,” he added, just to tease him, and Ryan snorted.

“Sounds like you need to invite me over to meet these three amazing cats of yours,” he said, and Gavin chuckled.

“That can be arranged,” he replied, and liked the little smirk Ryan gave him in response. More than anything, he liked the sudden realisation that this was just the _beginning_ of something - they’d go to dinner tonight, and if it worked they’d go more other places, and Ryan would come over to his house and meet his cats and eventually Ryan would have his own place to invite Gavin over to and everything, everything in front of them suddenly seemed new and exciting, a deeper version of the thrill of getting to know Ryan more over the last few weeks.

Their eyes met and he could see the same excitement in Ryan’s face. He felt the sudden urge to hug the other man - more could come later - and realised, suddenly, that he _could_ now. So he leapt forward into Ryan’s arms, squeezing him tightly.

Ryan let out a little surprised noise, then laughed, hugging him back. It felt good, the other man’s strong arms around him, in a situation where they were _both_ happy, his heart pounding for reasons other than fear and anxiety. He looked up, resting his chin on Ryan’s chest, and grinned happily at the other man - saw him beaming back - and didn’t even mind when he felt the dog brush up against his legs, trying to join in.


End file.
